Unsuspected
by DCIPHOENIX
Summary: My 1st CSI fic. A little parody i drempt up - Sara's depressed. Gil tries to cheer her up. xxx


Disclaimer: I don't own CSI. I'm not sure who does. I think it's CBS and Anthony E. Zuckier (probably spelt wrong. Sorry.)

A/N: 'Just a little one shot.' This came to me in a dream. I just needed to write it out before I forget it. Its bit weird but hey? Who's writing it? Had this CSI dream a couple of days ago. I had the dream Thursday I think... but I've forgotten chunks of it sadly... there was Cath in the dream too. But I forgot where she was in it. Oops. Hope you like. I just don't know when it's set... I thought of a really good title last night too... I sadly forgot it. I wrote this same day it's published – 16/04/11. I'll shut up now and hope you enjoy reading this. As ever read and review. Thanks.

Characters: Gil Grissom & Sara Sidle

Rating: T

Author: DCIPHOENIX

**Unsuspected.**

It began with another case with a deaf suspect. Sidle had trouble getting through to him. Even though with her empathy and compassion, she had given up. It was after that when Grissom saw her acting strangely so he followed her. She went into the ladies'. They were usually not very busy as the team was usually out around this time and took their breaks when they were supposed to. She opened the door and went into a cubicle, locking it behind her. He caught the door before it closed. The walls were painted a dull, dark forest green. With same coloured cubicles. Quietly he crept into the ladies' and heard her. There was only one locked cubicle door. That's when he found her. He heard her gasp and wince. What could she possibly be doing in there? He heard the lock began to move. Heard it unlock. Heard the metal scraping around its frame. He saw the 'engaged' become 'vacant'. There she stood. With a hand over her inner wrist, Sara stood leaning against the cubicle wall. When she spoke her voice was hoarse.

"Hanging around the ladies', Gil? You'll get a name for yourself." She laughed humorously as she stepped out to the white basins which above hung a giant mirror which hung from the highest point on the wall to where the basins were.

"I wanted to know what was a matter with you. I was worried about you." Grissom answered back. Looking at her reflection. "Looks like you've hurt yourself..." He continued as he eyed up her wrist. He grasped her shoulders, twisted her to face him. "Take your hand away..." He spoke softly. She tried to get out of his grip but was unsuccessful. Sara reluctantly took her hand away with a sigh. She'd been hiding a diagonal cut on her wrist which didn't pierce the vein. It was too shallow; it just made her skin bleed. It had already begun to scab over. Her body's natural glue had shut the cut up. The skin around the cut was red and sore. He gently ran his thumb over her fresh scar.

"Oh Sara... why?" He grimaced at her cut. His voice was sympathetic and full of disgust. How could she do it? What possessed her to do it? If she's been depressed why hadn't he noticed? He thought he knew her... apparently not.

"I'm not perfect." She just shrugged.

"'Not perfect?'" He gasped in annoyance. "Sara, you're perfect. Your beautiful and clever, hell, you give me a run for my money." He shook his head a little in revulsion. How could she not see what he sees! "Sara, you don't see what other people see." He advised. "Come here..." He stood directly behind her, pulled her shoulders so nothing was in-between them. So they stood beside the mirror. Grissom tried to find her eyes in the reflection of her. "Look at yourself. Tell me what you see." Grissom instructed.

"Grissom, I'm not gonna..."

"Yes you are, I'm not taking no for an answer. Please, just between us two. Tell me what you see." He reassured. He looked at her and his grip on her. Instead of gripping her shoulders and gripping her arms. He just rested her hands, palms down on her shoulders fingers over her collarbone. So she could leave at anytime. "So, what do you see?"

Sara sighed deeply and frowned at her reflection. She only saw herself as average. Nothing special, keeping herself to herself. "Well I see myself. Short brown hair- I hate my hair. Pale skin, I have way too many freckles. I hate my figure. I hate my thin lips. I have brown eyes. I guess they're ok. But not perfect. I'm not perfect." She told him. Her voice fast, yet unsteady. She just wanted to get this over and done with.

"Sara, everything that you've told me you hate about yourself. But they're all the things I love about you. Reasons why I think you're perfect. I love how your hair falls just perfectly." As he spoke he pulled back hair from her face and let it fall in his fingers. "I love how your skin's perfect without any imperfection; I've never noticed how many freckles you have. I think your figure's amazing, I've never really looked to be honest but I think you're beautiful. Your lips... well they're just perfect and your eyes..." He took a breath. "Your eyes are what drawn me to you. They're perfect." He moved around her so he could gaze into them. He saw she was on the verge of crying. "Why, that's why I never really looked any other place. I just think your eyes are amazing. I wish I could just lose myself in them."

She frowned. Letting one tear fall from her eye. "I only wish I could see what you see. But answer me this, Grissom –who's gonna skin me and treat me like a pussycat doll?" She asked.

'Skin her and treat her like a pussycat doll?' What could she mean by that? Does she mean not look at her, and only see what's on the inside? Or love what she looks like? "I will, Sara Sidle. I will." He told her**. **

**A/N: Ohhh that's not the way I wanted it to turn out... oh well. Please R&R. Thanks. You'll get metaphorical Gingerbread Grissoms! XXXXXDCIPHOENIXXXXXX**


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